Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 29279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
“Um, I’m sorry to be a nag,” I say, behind him. “But can I borrow some clothes? I only have a bikini on.”
The blanket I’m holding to my chest is slipping off my shoulders and he turns, a lightbulb going off.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of that. Hang on, I think I have something in here.”
He veers off into a side room and, poking my head in, I see him rummaging through a dresser.
“Do you live in this room?”
“I kind of live all over,” he says, his voice muffled. Then Tom emerges with a large t-shirt and shorts. Handing them to me he says, “I don’t have any underwear or anything, and these are clearly way too big for you, but … sorry, do you think it’s okay?”
It should have been a simple sentence but the shaded gleam in those blue eyes makes chills run up my arms. Is he fantasizing about me wearing no panties? No, that would be crazy.
“Oh sure,” I stammer. “It’s no problem. Ha ha, beggars can’t be choosers!” I shake my head at the lameness of my statement, but he just gives a quick nod before turning away.
“Breakfast is ready when you’re ready,” he calls over his shoulder before strolling back to the kitchen.
“Thanks,” I mutter, closing the door to change. My face is burning and I scold myself. I was just saved from drowning by this man! He’s a stranger too, so I shouldn’t feel turned on. But Tom is gorgeous, and I’ve already seen his muscular chest. Is the rest of him just as good?
“Knock it off,” I reprimand myself. “You just met him. He could be an axe murderer for all you know.”
I wince as I reach behind me to untie my swimsuit. My arms are almost as sore as my legs but I manage to shuck the bikini off. Then, I open the t-shirt and pull it over my head. It’s large and soft and the front has a picture of Snoopy sleeping on his dog house. Smiling, I pull the shorts on and walk out of the bedroom.
Tom is at the stove again, humming as he flips an omelet. My mouth starts watering as I realize just how hungry I am.
“That smells amazing, oh my god,” I say, sliding into a seat at the small kitchen table.
He turns and a grin sneaks out as his eyes travel down the length of my body.
“You look better,” he says playfully.
I blush, realizing how intimate it is to wear his clothes. I bite my lip, worrying it while trying to look normal.
“I feel better, thanks. I’m just hungry now.”
Tom grabs a plate from the cabinet and serves up my omelet. He also brings over two cups of coffee and I groan, inhaling the sweet smell. The eggs are fluffy and yellow, and at first, I take a small bite. But then I dig in when I realize how delicious it is.
“This is so good,” I mumble around a huge mouthful. “Thank you.”
Tom laughs and takes bite of his own omelet.
“I enjoy cooking. I don’t usually have anyone to cook for, so thank you.” I grin.
“You make it sound like I’m the one doing you a favor.”
He laughs out loud and the sound makes my stomach flutter.
“You kind of are,” he says lightly. “It gets lonely around here. As far as I know, I’m the only one living at St. Brigid.” I nod and want to say something, but I’m just too hungry. I shovel mouthfuls of fluffy egg down my gullet in a very unladylike manner, but Tom doesn’t seem to mind. His blue eyes merely look amused as I polish off the entire thing within minutes. Then I pat my lips gently. He’s still eating, like he has all the time in the world.
“So it’s not that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done, but I need to get back to my cruise ship. Not to mention my friend Simona. She probably has the entire boat looking for me,” I say. “How do I get to the main island again?”
Tom sighs and put his fork down on his plate.
“So, here’s the problem. We get supplies shipped into St. Brigid on a regular basis, but the boat only comes once a month, and it just left last night. So …”
My stomach drops into feet.
“Wait, so the next time they’ll be back is…”
“In a month,” he finishes for me.
I can feel the color drain from my face.
“Are you alright?” Tom asks, seeing my expression. “Are there medications you need or something like that? We can call them if it’s an emergency.”
I shake my head.
“No, I’m healthy but I mean, do you have a phone? I need to reach out to my friends and family because they’re going to think I’m dead!”
“Sorry, no phone.”